


send me the miles

by tosca1390



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He touches with hands and mouth and mind and she can’t get enough of it, because it’s really all she’s wanted from him. What she knows now is that she’s had the heart and mind of him for weeks, months; all that was lacking was the body, the true physical spirit of him. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	send me the miles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts), [empressearwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/gifts), [hariboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariboo/gifts), [theepiccek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theepiccek/gifts).



> I have no idea, guys. Emotional about Judd and Brenna since 10ever, I guess.

*

For the first day after disabling the Net-trained Protocol, Judd and Brenna don’t leave her room – their quarters, yes, it’s irrevocable now. It isn’t all sex - though now that touch isn’t an issue, Judd is like a desert-wandering man at an oasis, drinking in every curve and slip of her skin, the fall of her hair. He touches with hands and mouth and mind and she can’t get enough of it, because it’s really all she’s wanted from him. What she knows now is that she’s had the heart and mind of him for weeks, months; all that was lacking was the body, the true physical spirit of him. 

Well, she’s got that in _spades_ now. 

“A nap,” Judd mutters, voice hoarse. His mouth is near her neck, near the marks lingering on her throat from the night before. “Just a quick one.”

“Raising that white flag?” she teases, all but molten limbs next to him. The sheets are cool under her skin, as he is warm. The room smells of sex and _them_ , and she wouldn’t give a shit if her brothers stormed in guns blazing. This is _it_ – the two of them, here and now. She feels the pulse of the mating bond strong and true within her. 

His hand, large and warm on her inner thigh, squeezes gently. “I surrendered a long time ago.”

There’s a sudden lump in her throat; miles and miles and years of emotions lay behind his words, the feelings he’s been forced and conditioned into suppressing and ignoring for decades humming under his skin. She arches against his side and skims her palm down the long line of his abdomen. 

“When did it happen for you?” she asks, voice drowsy. The lamp next to her bed skims pale yellow light across their bare skin as she curls up against him, her chin in the hollow of his shoulder. 

“When did what happen?” he says, voice full of warmth and care. It’s still strange to her ears, to hear him without ice, without his tightly-wound control, without Silence choking him raw.

Lifting her head, she meets his dark gaze. “You love me,” she says, a fact she knows the truth of sure and steady in her every breath. 

“I do,” he says anyway, mouth curling in satisfaction. 

Warmth rises and twists in the middle of her belly with his words. “Jesus,” she breathes out. He says it now, says it with such fervor and surety. “Jesus Christ.”

His laugh is warm and rich and thrumming through their bond, filling her as he kisses her, his hand stroking over her skin, her hair. She never wants to stop touching, stop listening. Will it ever go away? 

“When did it happen?” she asks. There is want and need and desire, and then there is love; she wants the progression of it for him, wants those specific moments. She always has, just has been at a loss as to how to retrieve them from him. 

Mouth thinning, he settles back against the pillows. She props herself up on her elbow, exhausted by the effort. She might be a wolf, but she’ll need more than an hour’s nap after all this. Honestly, she’s shocked her brothers haven’t stormed the gate to bring sustenance, considering how obsessive they’ve been lately. 

Not that she wants them to. Because, awkward. 

“A few months after we came to the den, when Marlee and Toby were still struggling – “

“You were all struggling,” she says quickly. “Don’t suppress your own pain.”

Judd frowns, his brow furrowing. “Yes. Yes, we all had our own issues.”

She rolls her eyes, but smooths a hand over his stomach and curls up to listen, pleasantly achy. Baby steps, even now. 

“Marlee and Toby were especially confused. It took everything in Walker and Sienna and I to keep them from trying to find the Net,” he continues, voice distant. “I kept thinking that one day, one day they would find a reason to settle.”

Turning his head, a glimmer of a smile appears on his lips. “And then they did.”

“What does that have to do with –“

“I was going to the nursery to pick them up,” he says, interrupting her. “It was late – I was late.”

He doesn’t say why; Brenna thinks she knows. There’s a cherry pit of nausea within her, thinking of the darkness that is so a part of him, he cannot even escape it in SnowDancer’s world.

“When I came in, you were there. You looked tired, as if just coming off of a shift. But you had Marlee in your lap and Toby at your knees, sitting on the floor with them. You were showing them how to take apart something – a remote-controlled car, or something. But they were smiling and happy, and you – you were as good with them and as content as with any of the pups,” he finishes, voice full of wonderment. “It was the first time I felt as if they would belong.”

Tears smart behind her eyes but she blinks them away. She nuzzles his throat, stretching her thoughts back to that time. “That was before – “

“Yes, before Enrique,” he says, the chill back in his voice. But for the first time in a long time, she isn’t gripped by fear at the sound of that name. 

Her teeth graze the pulse in his throat. “I’m back,” she says against his skin, her palm pressed lightly over the steady beat of his heart. “I’m back.”

A cool callused hand settles at the nape of her neck, a welcome touch. “You have been so separated from yourself in these past months,” he says after a moment. “I – well, hoped is a strong word – “

“I think it works,” she mutters, shaking her head. Cold, stubborn man.

“I hoped you would come back to yourself. To the woman I saw in the nursery with the outsiders, kind and welcoming and fierce,” he says. His fingertips stroke along the curve of her neck. “I am very glad you did.”

Everything in her seems to soften, to melt at his words. There is such wonder in him, such limitless bounds for discovery. She wonders if she will be enough, now that there are no shackles on him. _Too late now_ , she thinks, touching the alive and thrumming bond between them with a shy mental push. 

The hand on her neck guides her up to his mouth for a kiss, long and languorous and full. She shuts her eyes and curls a thigh over his hip, her mouth opening over his. He tastes of her, smells of her; she wants him to carry her with him always. 

“Brenna?”

Sighing, she kisses along the line of his throat, over the sharp lines of his collarbones. “Baby, that makes two of us,” she murmurs. 

Dark eyes fix on hers as she looks up at him, gaze fierce. “Something is wrong with you.”

“Tired,” she says, barely stifling a yawn. “You’ve sexed me into slumber.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “You’re spending too much time with Drew.”

Laughing, she pushes at his chest and curls up. “Shut up and sleep.”

“One hour.”

“Whatever you say, stud.”

“I do not believe I agreed to that name,” he says, a hand possessive on the small of her back. 

She smiles, shutting her eyes. “We’ll see.”

*

“You look like you’ve been hit by a two-by-four,” Lara says with a knowing grin.

Brenna shakes her head, lets Lara complete her exam. The surface of the table is cool under her legs. Day six, and Hawke finally has Judd out of the den on a reconnaissance mission of a kind. Brenna takes the moment’s respite to visit Lara, to assure herself of her health and of her reproductive precautions. 

“Is everything still fine with the contraception?” she asks, mouth pursed. She kicks her legs as they dangle over the exam table edge, the habits of a little girl now grown. 

Fox-brown eyes peer at Brenna, curious. “Fit as a fiddle. Barring sperm that have Tk powers, you should be fine.” Lara crosses her arms over her chest, head tilted. “Any reason for the extra vigilance?”

Shrugging, Brenna wrinkles her nose. “It’s new. We’re new. I don’t want any surprises.”

Besides, she thinks, I have no idea what Enrique did to me. 

Lara, in her kind and thorough physical examinations after Brenna’s rescue, has said little concerning her internal physical state. She is _fine_ , can engage in physical sexual contact. But the exact specifics of what Enrique may have done to her remain a mystery, and Lara has said nothing of it. So, they engage in the comforts of normalcy; contraceptives for a changeling female who may never have need of them again. 

“Do you even know if he wants kids?” Lara asks, because Lara is Lara and she can feel the anxiety drifting off of Brenna in spades. 

“It’s been less than a week since he’s unlocked emotion, Lara. Children are a level too far right now,” Brenna says evenly. Her hands link together in her lap. Judd’s own words circle through her mind, echoes of a Silence now broken; people like him do not pass on their genes. 

She swallows hard, and says nothing. 

Lara sits down in her chair next to the exam table, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “What have you discussed?”

“Not much,” Brenna says tightly, and it’s true. Both she and Judd have been overwhelmed by sheer physicality that actual discussion has taken a back seat. Between her tech shifts and his lieutenant shifts, and the constant temptation to touch and be touched, it’s a wonder her brain hasn’t been scrambled by his presence. “He’s moved in with me into my quarters.”

Making a small impressed sound, Lara blinks at Brenna. A wolf waiting for prey, almost.

“Oh god,” Brenna grumps. “Look- it’s just – it’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” 

“Judd. And feelings.”

Lara’s eyes widen. “Ah.”

“I always knew it was in him,” Brenna says, suddenly exhausted. “But the _hearing_ it is really different. Really. And it makes me sad because he’s missed so much, and I –“

“You weren’t ready, before,” Lara interrupts, cutting to the quick of it. Her slim strong fingers toy with a loose curl at her throat. “Neither was he.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Brenna tucks her hair behind her ears. Her wolf is skittish today, crawling low at her skin. She wants the comfort of her mate’s touch, even as it still sears her to the bone. “He – he thought about it, before breaking,” she says at last, touching the nerve still raw and open in their bond. 

Lara fixes her with a strange look. “What do you mean?”

Brenna still blushes when she thinks about it, the first night they spent together after a flameout. His determination and strategy when it came to _her_ , the repetition of it all; he had a plan, a well-thought-out plan of what to do to please her, to please them both. How could a heartless iceman be so specific and thorough? It still catches her off-guard, fitting the ice-cold exterior together with the warm-blooded man she knows inside and out. 

“Nothing,” Brenna says at last. This is for her and Judd alone. “Let’s just say the Lauren men are unreliable narrators.”

Lara’s mouth twitches. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

*

Later in the evening, Brenna leaves two plates warm in the thermal unit in the kitchenette of their quarters for Judd, and tries to sleep. It will be a late night for Judd, apparently. Besides his duties for Hawke, he has a meeting with the Ghost. 

She is not to worry. He told her so before leaving. Through their bond, fierce and true, she can feel him safe and secure. Still, she lays awake staring at the ceiling, the heartbeat in her ears her only company. She can smell Judd’s scent on the sheets, the pillows, and it gives her comfort as she waits. Her body swallowed in one of his sweaters, she tucks her hands up into the woolen sleeves and presses her cheek to the pillow. 

She waits, and it is an odd feeling. But now she waits for Judd, for the certainty of a mate who will care for her and protect her, and let her care for him in turn. It is an easier kind of waiting than before, when she was never fully sure he would come back. 

Drifting into a light sleep, she wakes with the dip of the bed at her side. 

_Brenna?_

His warm voice fills her mind. The telepathic bond is still a new sensation, one that warms her through and through. She has told no one of it yet; she wonders still what it means, to be so open to him. Eyelids fluttering, she turns and looks at him. 

_You were asleep_ , he says in her mind, sitting at the edge of the bed. He reaches out to rest his palm against her cheek, a gentle touch. 

“I’m not,” she murmurs, nuzzling into his touch. 

Judd tilts his head. She can feel the smile he still cannot show on his face. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Did you eat it all?” she asks, fixing him with a firm stare. 

Blinking, he plucks at the sleeve of his sweater on her skin. “I did.”

There is no lie. She smiles, reaches out to twine their hands. “You look tired.”

He kicks off his shoes and crawls into bed fully clothed, taking the side of the bed facing the door. Tucked between the wall and his lithe body, she feels utterly protected. Dominant males are the same no matter what their race, she imagines. But she lets him have the assurance of her safety, curls into his chest. He smells like winter, like the snow that fell around the den earlier today, and of candle smoke. 

“The church again?” she asks, tilting her head up to look at him. 

His dark eyes are gentle as he looks at her, strokes his hands over her back. He doesn’t feel overwarm to her, no risk of flameout. His programming of his mind seems to be holding; perhaps one day, she won’t worry every moment with baited breath for it to fail. 

“Yes,” he says, face taut in the dim light. “The Council is decidedly angry concerning the Packs’ strike against them. They do not like being outthought.”

“They should pick their targets more wisely then,” she says tartly. 

He kisses her brow. She can’t help but revel in the physical contact, the affection pulsing through the bond. “I’ll need to talk to Hawke about this, but I think you and Dorian should continue to set up hacking equations, for future use. Another means of protecting Pack interests.”

The ease with which he speaks of her talents, and his loyalty to Pack, astounds her. He has been Pack for far longer than the lieutenant bonding would denote. Again, Silence had him all convoluted and twisted; just for a moment, she aches. 

“That’s a good idea. I’m sure Dorian wouldn’t mind,” she says instead, smoothing her fingertips over the hard line of his jaw. 

“It will get far worse before it gets better,” he says, voice low and even. “We need to be prepared.”

“You can prepare tomorrow,” she says with a laugh, pushing aside her worries for the night. She turns onto her back, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down on top of her. The weight of him is delicious, nothing to fear. “Why don’t I get you out of these clothes?”

“So you can steal them?” he asks, just the hint of a tease in his voice, along the bond. 

Grinning, she tugs at his t-shirt and leans up to bite his unsmiling lips. “I like your scent all around me,” she whispers. 

“The mental image of you in my clothes is one that will make it very difficult to function during the work day,” he says, all the while sending her telepathic images of their coupling in the woods, the snow fluttering all around them. 

Shivering, she leans up to kiss and bite at his exposed chest, sinking her teeth into his pectorals. “Baby, I just have to scent you, and I’m ready,” she breathes. 

His hands clench on her waist. They do not speak much after that point. 

*

When she closes her eyes, sometimes she thinks she can see the shield Judd has around her mind. 

From the moment he put it in place, she has felt more centered, more herself. The emotions and thoughts of others are no longer seeping into her mind, affecting her thoughts. Yet she does not feel separate from her Pack or from her family in a way she was scared she might; the shield is a delicate piece of psychic machinery, or so Sascha tells her. 

“He must have stolen some of my tricks,” the empath says to her with a wry smile as they walk through the White Zone after the latest healing session. No longer does Judd need to be here for them; Brenna is strong, and does not exhaust Sascha any longer. Brenna misses Judd’s steady and cool presence though; but he has other duties now, responsibilities to Hawke and to the Pack. She begrudges him nothing. 

“Will I always need it?” Brenna asks, tucking her jacket closer around her body. “Judd said I might not, but – “

“Your own shields are rebounding,” Sascha says, pushing her braid over her shoulder as they walk. Lucas waits at the edge of the White Zone, a predatory gleam in his eye as he leans against his vehicle. But Sascha doesn’t hurry; she doesn’t let Lucas press his advantage as alpha, but she always stays within his sight. Brenna can’t help but admire her; judging from what she’s seen of both Hawke and Lucas, being a mate to an alpha would be no easy task. “I think now, with Judd’s temporary shield, we will be able to make more headway with rebuilding yours. It’ll take some more time, but with nothing impeding new growth, it will be easy.”

Smiling, Brenna kicks at the snow lingering on the ground. “Good.”

Sascha takes Brenna’s hand in her gloved ones, cardinal eyes bright with stars. “I’m so happy for you, Brenna,” she says quietly. 

To have Sascha – an empath of extreme ability and a woman of pure strength – be so pleased makes Brenna undeniably happy. Brenna leans in and kisses Sascha’s cheek. Under her skin, the wolf curls up in comfort. 

“I knew he’d come around eventually,” she says lightly. 

Sascha grins. “Your will is a steely thing, Brenna Kincaid.”

“Look who my brothers are,” Brenna jokes, squeezing Sascha’s hand gently. “I had to.”

“And you’re better for it,” Sascha says. 

The ringing endorsement of her strength makes Brenna smile, deep inside. The mating bond reverberates with it, Judd’s pleasure a sure thing in her heart. 

*

“I want to try something,” Judd says as he meets her outside the tech work area, his eyes gleaming in the den’s simulated evening light. Their mating is a month old, and yet everything still feels fresh and new and exciting. Brenna doesn’t think that will ever go away. 

Brenna blinks, adjusting her work bag over her shoulder. “In the hallway? Baby, I love you, but even that’s a little exhibitionist for me – “

He leans in and kisses her, stealing her words and her breath. She likes it when he can pick her up from work, though they work just corridors away from each other. She likes surprising him in his office and bringing him lunch. When Riley catches them kissing in Judd’s office, he growls and storms off a lot, which is also really fun. It’s all so utterly domestic and normal, she can almost forget that two nights ago, Judd broke the bedframe and covered them in wood splinters, and that now they’re sleeping on borrowed iron-frame bed that she found hiding in storage from twenty years ago, or that last week she had a nightmare drenched in blood and psychic coercion that not even Judd’s touch could bring her out of. 

The horrors of their lives linger, but here they can be normal, she thinks. 

A heavy throat-clearing catches her attention. She leans away from Judd and looks to see Hawke smirking down the hall. 

“No canoodling in the hallways, kids,” the alpha wolf says, all amusement. 

She sticks her tongue out at him. Judd’s amusement filters through the bond, though his face remains motionless. 

“Do you need me?” he asks Hawke, voice even as he leans away from Brenna. 

Hawke’s grin deepens. “No. Just stay out of trouble.”

“Speak for yourself,” Brenna mutters good-naturedly as they pass him, heading towards the den garage. But her heart aches for Hawke, an alpha perhaps without a mate. No one should suffer the lack of a partner. 

Judd’s hand clasps her own. “Are you sad?” he asks, voice taut.

“I’m sorry,” she says, suddenly fearful of overwhelming him. “I try to filter for you, I do – “

He backs her up against the cool plaster and stone of the den wall and kisses her until they are both breathless, his hands cupping her face. “You don’t need to change anything,” he says softly. “I have to learn to navigate the nuances of emotion. I ask because I wonder if you are sad for yourself, or – “

“I worry about Hawke,” she says, petting across his chest, feeling the texture of his sweater against her palms. He’s taken to wearing these sweaters, after she decided she liked how he looked in them and bought him a few in various colors. She likes the blue the most. “That’s all.”

Touching her cheek, he kisses her once more and leads her through to the garage. 

“Where on earth are you taking me, baby?” she asks as he helps her into the SUV he signed out. “You can’t _go_ anywhere – “

“I heard of a courtship ritual called necking,” he says, voice placid. He gets into the driver’s seat and turns on the car. “I thought we could attempt to try it.”

For a moment, she is shocked. Then, she starts to laugh, all pleasure and joy. “You idiot,” she says, full of affection. “I love you.”

He takes her hand in his and brings her knuckles to his lips, biting lightly. “You want to go?”

“Yes,” she says, delighted. 

They park a little ways into the woods, snow falling lightly around them in the cool blue evening air. She doesn’t hesitate to crawl over the shift and climb into his lap, kissing him as his hands search out bare skin. His fingers slide under her shirt to spread across her ribcage, grazing the swells of her breasts. Sighing, she drags her fingers through his hair and kisses him hard, her tongue licking into his mouth to search out all the ice and pine and man of his taste and scent. 

_I like this,_ he says telepathically, his tongue in her mouth. She shudders, the sound of his voice acting as an aphrodisiac.

_I do too_ she thinks to him, twining her fingers in his hair. 

He cups her cunt through her jeans and she hitches her hips, a moan curling out of her. “Judd – “ she pants as his teeth and lips travel her throat, her jaw. His clever fingers undo her jeans and her zipper and search out bare wet flesh, sliding through her damp curls to find her clit. 

“I like seeing you like this,” he breathes into her ear, his lips at her earlobe. She quivers, the pleasure seeping into her nerves and her joints. She feels the tension of the day coil away as he strokes her, his thumb working her clit. “Brenna – “

“I thought about you all day,” she whispers, digging her fingers into his shoulders. She rocks her hips into his hand, her inner thigh rubbing against his jean-covered erection. She can smell him, hot and hard and ready, covering every pore of her skin. “I thought about bringing you into the work room during lunch, when it was just me in there, and sitting down on my desk in front of you, letting you use your mouth like you did in the kitchenette last week – “

He thrusts two fingers into her and she gasps, damp and ready for him. Shaking in his arms, she kisses along his hard jawline, sending waves of affection and want and love down the mating bond. 

“I love you,” she breathes as he makes her come with just his fingers and his mouth on her neck, marking her as she will mark him. “Judd, I love you – “

He kisses her then, the words lost between their lips. Their hands scramble for his jeans button, until he pushes his down and shoves the seat back, want a furor in his gaze. Outside the car, she’s sure she hears the crack of tree limbs, the ground quivering beneath them, but she doesn’t care. She crawls out of her jeans and lets him tear off her panties, taking him inside her with an easy steady thrust. Her hair looses and falls across her face and neck as she arches her back. 

Hands rise to slip under her shirt, covering her breasts in a firm possessive caress. Her name rasps out from his lips as she sets their rhythm, fast and even. When she bends over him he offers his mouth, taking control of the kiss in a way that makes her tremble and arch for more. He is all passion coiled within a cool exterior, and he is all hers. 

_Mine_ she thinks to him, almost savagely, her fingers digging into his chest through his sweater. There is just the prick of claws – not enough to ruin the weave of the sweater. _You’re mine._

_Always_ he says, pupils blown wide. His teeth sink into her bottom lip as he rocks up into her, and she gasps through another climax, clenching around him as he comes. The car is full of the scents of sex and them, and she stretches out on top of him with a grin, breathing hard and fast. 

“I understand the appeal,” he says after a long spell of silence, his voice ragged. 

She laughs and kisses his throat, licks over the bite mark left there from her teeth. “We’ll have to air out the car. How did you not break anything?”

“I may have broken a tree.”

Blinking, she sits up, naked from the waist down, and rolls down the driver’s side window. “Jesus.”

A tree branch lays on the ground, splintered from its mother tree. Another hangs from its mother trunk by a few inches. It collapses and falls to the ground as she watches, utterly transfixed. 

“We’re going to have to experiment with this, babe,” she says after a moment, rolling the window back up and shifting to snuggle up to his chest. 

“I have been thinking on it,” he murmurs, hands stroking over her spine. 

Sighing, she kisses the still-jumping pulse in his throat. They are quiet together for a long moment before she swallows her nerves and raises her head. “Judd?”

“You are worried,” he says evenly. 

“No. Not worried.” She bites her bottom lip. “When you told me about how your designation didn’t mate, or procreate, or have relationships – was that all just trying to scare me off?”

He watches her silently for a moment, his hands still stroking over her back. “What do you really want to ask?”

“Can you not have children?” she asks, her heart knotted up in odd ways. 

Stroking the hair from her face, he says nothing. 

Flushing, she shifts away from him and reaches for her jeans. “Not that – I don’t want them now – or – well – “

“You don’t know what will happen if you try,” he finishes for her, watching as she shimmies into her jeans. Her panties, as usual, are a lost cause. He buttons his jeans as well, for her comfort, she thinks. 

“I guess not,” she says with a shrug. She doesn’t want to think about Enrique and his work, not tonight. “I just – I thought we should talk about it.”

Judd raises the seat and watches her with an even gaze, his face betraying nothing. She would be afraid but for the beauty of the bond she feels with every inch of her, all love and devotion and fierce affection. 

“I never thought about it. I was a weapon, not a man,” he says after a while. His hair is deliciously rumpled from her hands. It brings her joy. “And to be a Tk-Cell – it is not a gift I would wish on anyone.”

Then, he reaches out to cup her cheek, his fingers playing along her temple and hairline. “If it is something you want, we can consider it.”

The gift he gives her with this concession is too much to bring to words. Swallowing down her sudden tears, she leans over the shift and kisses him. Her wolf, curled up and trapped inside of her, stretches out and breathes under the caress, assured once more that they have made the right choice. 

“Definitely not yet. And definitely not for certain,” she says softly. “But thank you for considering it.”

He kisses her, eyes very dark in the snowy night. _I love you._

“Can I put honeypie back on the table, too?” she asks with a tearful, happy laugh.

_No,_ he says, even as he kisses her, his love a solid foundation upon which she can rest everything. 

*

When Brenna and Judd have Riley and Drew over for dinner, she counts it as a win that there is no bloodshed. 

“You look happy,” Riley says in his quiet, somber way of his. They stand side by side doing the dishes as Judd and Drew talk in the living room area, Pack business of a sort. They get along better than Brenna would have expected. Riley is still solid, the Wall; he respects Judd and his abilities as a fellow lieutenant, but when it comes to his baby sister? It’s different. 

Brenna understands. It’s annoying, but she gets it. 

That’s why his concession to her mating pleases her deeply, settles her prowling wolf. 

“I am,” she says, smiling as she hands him a plate to dry. “I love him.”

Riley flushes just at the tops of his cheekbones, his dark eyes widening. “Jesus, Bren.”

Grinning, she flicks soapy water off her fingers in his direction. “Get over it.”

Riley leans over and kisses her cheek. “I’m real glad,” he murmurs. She is suddenly reminded of his tending to her every scrape and cut, holding her when she had nightmares in her youth. Blinking back tears, she kisses his cheek in return. 

“Me too,” she says honestly. 

When they join Judd and Drew, Judd immediately rises and places his arm around her, tucking her close to his side even as he turns to Riley to speak of lieutenant matters. Drew grins and waggles his eyebrows at her from the other side of the room, and she just sighs and leans into Judd’s hold. 

“This is working,” she says when she and Judd crawl into bed later that night. Everything between them and within them buzzes in contentment. 

He kisses her hair and wraps her in his arms, just like every night. And just like every night, she wraps herself in one of his shirts or sweaters, keeping his scent as a protective barrier against her still-troubled dreams. 

“Arrows never deviate from a goal,” he says, voice a low rumble in his chest. “It was always going to work.”

Maybe not always, she thinks as she drifts to sleep. But they are making it work. Inch by inch, moment by moment; they make it work. 

*


End file.
